


Remembering

by musiclover57



Series: Endings and Beginnings [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Guilt, Love Confessions, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24327133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclover57/pseuds/musiclover57
Summary: Sequel to 2020. Arthur remembers, and he and Merlin talk.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), implied Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), implied Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin)
Series: Endings and Beginnings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756285
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Remembering

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.  
> If you didn't read 2020, Arthur was reincarnated and got a concussion or something so he's remembering his past life. Other stuff happened, but nothing really relevant.

The first thing he remembered was the end. 

The words _Thank you_ , breathed from dying lips, and the big sky waiting to swallow him up. Maybe Merlin — who was wearing some atrocious red scarf — was saying something. He couldn’t tell. Everything seemed…so very, very far away. As though he and Merlin were on opposite ends of that lake…

Arthur tried to catch at the memory, to finish it, but the actual moment of death eluded him. He remembered dying, yes: the knowledge that death was near, the acceptance of said death and perhaps even a kind of relief — but he couldn’t remember what it felt like to die. He couldn’t remember his soul leaving his body, or his mind shutting off like a computer, or whatever it was that happened to you when you died.  
Perhaps it was for the best. 

Then the memories seemed to wash over him, too fast for him to get a good look at any. He knew they were somewhere in his subconscious, though — in the days to come the sight of things like buckets and old books would bring them into the forefront of his mind, disorienting and real — but they slipped in mostly unannounced. He got overall impressions from them, of guilt and joy and love and despair and everything in between, and flashes of images, of Guinevere frowning at him, of Merlin’s outraged face, of his father’s scowl, of a crazed gleam in Morgana’s eyes. Nothing concrete, and trying to chase after them only caused him to trip over himself. 

Some shone brighter, though, like beacons in the darkness. He saw Mordred, older than he was now, a kind of pained fury around his eyes, and he remembered Mordred stabbing him — oh, the _pain_ —

He remembered those words Merlin said which changed Arthur forever. _“I have magic.”_ He couldn’t quite recall, though, why they had mattered so much. 

He remembered standing before a blazing pyre, knowing it was for a friend. He remembered Guinevere in tears, and remembered, too, a sort of guilt settling over him as he looked at her. He had the distinct impression that he should have done something different — that he stole something from her. As the memory spun away, he realized what it was: time. He didn’t know how time could be stolen away, but apparently he’d done it to her. 

He remembered Merlin jumping in front of him, his body raised in the air like some kind of phantom. He remembered fear, and shame, and worry, and something like resentment, too — who did Merlin think he was, risking his life for Arthur? What did he think Arthur would do without him? 

He remembered a round table, a cloud of dust, a row of men becoming knights. And a voice, saying something like, “It’s you he should be knighting.” A sort of incredulous feeling — knowing it would only encourage Merlin. Anyway, he doubted he could explain —

He remembered a man who looked like Percy, a bit, only older and taller, much taller — perhaps his father? He’d remember later that it really was Percy, only he was Sir Percival, a knight of the round table. Anyway, he was carrying Merlin in his arms — Merlin didn’t look so good, did he? 

He remembered Merlin’s distressed face, voice hard as he said, “There can be no place for magic in Camelot.” He couldn’t remember what Arthur — the other Arthur, the Arthur who’d lived and loved through all this — had thought or felt, but the coldness in Merlin’s voice troubled him now. It sounded like he was repeating something he’d heard, something he’d never wanted to say himself…

He remembered Mordred kneeling, becoming a knight, a paradoxically knowing naivety in his eyes. He remembered Morgana’s sharp wit and subtle anger and closed compassion. He remembered Guinevere’s fiery warmth. He remembered Merlin—

He remembered how sad Merlin would sometimes look. He remembered a thousand moments in between. He remembered thinking — and it was odd, to remember thinking something, like a voice in his head, only it was his — _Forever. I’ll love him forever_. 

Consciousness was slowly prickling at Arthur; clarity returned to him. He brought into his mind some memories of his own —of After: Merlin knowing his name. Merlin having magic. Merlin faking his own name. Merlin getting those sad looks when he thought no one else was watching. Merlin saying — _It glorifies death and pining. I don’t approve._

Whatever else, he’d gotten the overwhelming sense from the memories that there had been a lot of pining involved. And certainly there was death. Oceans of death. Years of it. 

A nag of doubt came onto Arthur — but no, it was impossible. Merlin couldn’t still be alive. Could he? 

Arthur recalled something he’d always known… just always known, the way people seem to have always known their names or how to cry. Certainly it was nothing he could remember learning. But it was there, all along, waiting to be called upon — Emrys. Emrys means immortal. 

And Merlin… was Emrys. 

As he blinked open his eyes to a world which seemed now to be far less real than the one inside his head, Arthur thought, _Oh, Merlin. Forever seems like an awfully long time_. 

“I remember everything,” Arthur said, deliberately ambiguous. A test. A wish. A yearning, a dreading, a — a test, yes, it was a test. 

That he had no way of knowing what _everything_ was did not cross his mind. Only that Merlin surely would. He studied the warlock’s face. 

Alarm, hope, anticipation… Merlin’s face seemed to show as many emotions as there are stars in the sky, rapidly switching to have time for all of them. But below this sea of feeling, a kind of bitter undercurrent, was…resignation. 

Had it always been there? Could Arthur only see it now, because he knew what to look for? 

Either way, Arthur had his answer. 

“Is it… true? Is it really real, Merlin?” 

Merlin nodded, for once at a loss for words. 

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said. He didn’t know fully what he was apologizing for, but the word _forever_ flashed in his mind, and the look on Merlin’s face when he talked about magic, and he knew he had to say it. 

Merlin started. “You’re—sorry?”

At some point Mordred had left. Had he said anything? 

“What _do_ you remember?” Merlin asked, almost suspicious. Hope was dying a cold death in his eyes. 

“I remember living and dying. Hating and loving. Fighting and doing all I could to stop the fight. A whole lifetime’s worth of memories…and they really started with you.” Memories of his childhood would return later, but for now, they were eluding him — he had no rope, no idea how he might coerce those memories from his mind. No sequence to fill in the gaps of. “I remember the sword in the stone, the dragon in the castle, the body on the pyre. I remember people burning before they were dead. I remember blood and screaming and loss, which is worse than one’s own death. I remember…”

“Not all bad, surely?” Merlin asked, as though trying to joke but failing badly. 

Arthur took him at face value. “Not at all, Merlin,” he said. “I remember loving you. A whole lifetime’s worth of memories… and I remember loving you.”

For a terrifying moment Arthur thought Merlin might cry. He honestly didn’t think he could handle that. Instead, Merlin just said, “I’ve waited forever to hear you say that.”

_Forever_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
